Chapter 676 New Ideas
Wang Jianguo gently unfolded the sketch with curled corners, and the edge of the paper still retained the warmth of his fingertips.
Zhao Shuzhuo quickly reached out to take it. When his rough palm touched the paper, he found that there were densely written notes on the back. The handwriting had been changed many times by an eraser, and some places even showed through the back of the paper.
He turned and walked towards the old people sitting under the locust tree. Grandpa Huang was fiddling with grass seeds on the ground with his walking stick, while Grandma Cheng had the embroidery frame on her knees, the silver needle flickering in the moonlight.
"Uncle Huang, please take a look at this picture."
Zhao Shuzhuo squatted down and spread the sketch on the stone table. Wang Jianguo pointed at the hexagonal building in the upper left corner with the tip of his pencil.
"This is a memorial pavilion. The pillars will be inscribed with 'The pioneers of the Great Northern Wilderness will live forever'. There will be some old objects in the pavilion, such as hoes and oil lamps used during the land reclamation."
Grandpa Huang came closer, his cloudy eyes wandering over the blueprint, and suddenly he pointed at the tombstones with the tip of his cane:
"What are these little boxes?"
"This is where the urn is,"
Wang Jianguo hurried to explain.
"The bottom is built with blue bricks to prevent moisture, and the top is covered with glazed tiles, so it won't get wet when it rains."
Grandma Cheng put down the embroidery frame and came over, bringing with her a faint scent of mugwort.
Her finger slid across the "Family Memorial Area" on the blueprint, where neatly arranged stone benches and rows of flower pots were drawn:
"Hey, this flowerpot can also grow flowers?"
Wang Jianguo smiled:
"In the spring, we will give each family some flower seeds. You can plant whatever flowers you like. When the time comes, the cemetery will be full of red and yellow flowers, which will be much more lively than the wild hillside."
Grandma Cheng suddenly wiped her eyes and waved her silver hairpin in the moonlight:
"That's great. It's much more respectable than the mass graves in my hometown. When my wife passed away, she didn't even have a thin coffin..."
"Grandma, when you are a hundred years old, I will choose a sunny place for you."
Wang Jianguo said half-jokingly.
"Plant your favorite peony flowers next to it, and you will be able to smell the fragrance every year when they bloom."
Grandma Cheng smiled and patted the back of his hand, but suddenly became serious:
"Xiao Zhao, tell the villagers to bury me here when I die, so that I can keep the old sisters company."
As soon as she finished speaking, the elderly people around her nodded one after another. Aunt Li touched the peony pattern on the embroidery frame and said:
"I want to be here too, so the children won't get lost when they visit the grave."
Zhao Shuzhuo agreed with a smile, but when he looked up, he saw Wang Jianguo staring at the drawing in a daze, his fingers unconsciously stroking the tip of the pencil.
The moonlight shone through the leaves of the locust tree, casting mottled shadows on his face. Suddenly he slapped his thigh:
"Have it!"
The sparrows on the tree were startled and flew away.
"Brother Shuzhuo, why don't we take this opportunity to build a cemetery?"
His eyes shone in the night.
"Nowadays, everyone buries their bodies randomly, which not only takes up farmland, but also makes it difficult for future generations to find their bodies. It would be great if there was a formal cemetery with unified planning, tombstones and names, and an area for tomb sweeping!"
Mr. Huang's cane made a sound on the stone table:
"But how can we ordinary people live in a cemetery like martyrs?"
Wang Jianguo opened his notebook and quickly wrote a few lines:
"Why not? Old Zhou from our reclamation team drowned while trying to save the pump. Is he considered a hero?"
"Uncle Zhang led everyone to treat the saline-alkali land and was so tired that he vomited blood. Can he be considered a hero?"
His voice got higher and higher.
"Besides, this cemetery is not only for burying the elderly. In the future, everyone who has weddings or funerals can follow the rules to avoid young people not knowing the etiquette and disappointing the old friends."
Grandma Cheng suddenly pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket, which contained a few copper coins:
"I have some pocket money here, I'll donate it to the cemetery to buy bricks."
Zhao Shuzhuo quickly held her hand:
"You can keep it to buy candy. The village will take care of this matter."
Wang Jianguo took the handkerchief and carefully put it into his notebook:
"We accept grandma's kindness. When the cemetery is built, we will carve your name on the monument of merit."
He turned and looked at Zhao Shuzhuo with a firm gaze.
"Tomorrow I will go to the township to file a report and try to get this matter approved along with the brick factory."
The night wind was getting colder, and the elderly people started to go home. Grandma Cheng walked a few steps with her cane, then turned back to Wang Jianguo and said:
"Xiao Wang, if there could be a piece of land in the cemetery for those of us who have no children, then there would be no one to sweep the graves..."
"do not worry!"
Wang Jianguo responded loudly.
"I remember it all. I have set aside a special 'public cemetery area'. During festivals, I take the young people in the factory to sweep the graves and make sure that not a single grave is overgrown with weeds!"
Zhao Shuzhuo watched Wang Jianguo packing up the blueprints in the moonlight, and suddenly remembered what he had just said:
"The land of the Great Northern Wilderness contains not only our bones, but also our roots."
At this moment, the cemetery planning map on the sketch was gently fluttered by the wind. Those originally unfamiliar lines seemed to grow out of the black soil, carrying a sense of power that made people feel at ease.
He touched the pen in his pocket and decided to bring up this matter at the party branch meeting early tomorrow morning - some things should have been done long ago.
On the distant western hillside, the wild grass swayed gently in the night breeze, as if singing a silent prelude for the upcoming cemetery.
Wang Jianguo walked across the threshing ground holding the blueprint. The soles of his shoes crushed a few grass seeds, and he suddenly felt the weight on his shoulders lighten a lot.
He knew that the desolate graves that once weighed on his heart would eventually grow into eternal roots in the hearts of the people of the Great Northern Wilderness on the new land.
Wang Jianguo watched Grandma Cheng's back as she walked away with a cane, and drew a few quick lines on the edge of the sketch with the pencil in his hand.
When he turned around, his trouser legs brushed against the corner of the stone table and almost knocked over Zhao Shuzhuo's enamel pot.
Director Song was sitting under a locust tree smoking his pipe. The sparks flickered in the twilight, making the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes even deeper.
"Director Song, I have an idea."
Wang Jianguo squatted down, his knees knocking against the stone floor.
"Just now, Grandma Cheng said she wanted to be buried in a cemetery. I suddenly wondered, why not take the opportunity to build a formal cemetery?"
He quickly unfolded the sketch and pointed the tip of his pencil at the "New Cemetery" sign.
"You see, relocating the graves now is only a temporary solution. As the population of our village grows, we can't compete with the graves for land to grow crops every year."
Director Song exhaled a puff of smoke and tapped the pipe on the stone table:
"Go on."
"I want to carry out the relocation of graves on the west slope and the construction of the cemetery at the same time,"
Wang Jianguo drew a big circle on the map with his pencil.
"Build a brick factory on this side, build a cemetery on the other side, and connect them with a new brick road in the middle."
"The cemetery is divided into several areas. The old comrades of the reclamation team have their own steles, and ordinary villagers have their own plots according to their families. There is also a public welfare area reserved for ownerless graves and lonely elderly people."
He became more and more excited as he spoke, and his pencil scratched on the paper.
"This will not only solve the problem of relocating graves, but also leave a memory for future generations. Maybe it can become a new rule in our village—"
"Good boy, your brain works fast!"